“Vas leggis?” It was a woman’s voice, sharp with anger. “Vas jagen?”

Dani turned slowly, showing his open hands. The woman was young, scarce older than he, clad in leather hunting gear, with blonde hair tied in a braid. As she glared at him, he saw fear and confusion in her face; but it was resolute, too. She reminded him a little bit of Fianna, for she held a hunting bow, an arrow nocked and aimed at his heart, and he did not doubt that she knew how to use it.

“I am sorry,” he said in the common tongue. “We do not speak your language. We are lost. We will go.” Moving cautiously, he tapped his chest then pointed into the forest. “We will go, leave.”

“No.” She shook her head, gesturing toward the Keep with the point of her arrow. Her brow furrowed as she searched for words. “Go there.”

Dani glanced at his uncle.

“Go there!” The arrow gestured with a fierce jerk.

“I don’t think she means to give us a choice, lad,” Uncle Thulu said.

If his skin had prickled in the forest, it was nothing to what he felt here, crossing open territory with the point of a drawn arrow leveled at his back. The Keep loomed before them, grey and ominous. A reek of charred wood was in the air, as though a hundred campfires had been extinguished at once.

As they drew nearer, Dani saw the source. There was a wooden building in the courtyard, or had been, once. Where the foundation had stood, there was nothing but a heap of ash and debris, strewn with scorched beams. He touched the vial at his throat for reassurance, glancing over his shoulder at the woman. “What happened here?”

She stared at him. “Fjeltroll.”

At the tall doors of the Keep, she rapped for entry, speaking in Staccian to the woman who opened the spy-hole to peer out at her. The spy-hole was closed, and they waited. Dani eyed the doors. They were wrought of massive timbers, wood from the forest. Here and there, pale gouges showed where Fjel talons had scored them.

“I thought the Fjeltroll and the Staccians were allies,” he whispered to his uncle.

“So did I,” Uncle Thulu whispered back. “Keep quiet, lad; wait and see.”

The doors were unbarred and flung open with a crash. Dani jumped and felt the point of an arrow prod his back. Their captor repeated her words, mangling the syllables with her thick accent. “You go there!”

They entered the Keep.

Inside, a dozen women awaited them, hands grasping unfamiliar weapons. Dani glanced about him. Women, all women. Where were the men? There were only women. From what little he knew of life outside the desert, the genders did not dwell apart any more than they did within it. On each of their faces, he saw the same emotions manifested: a resolute anger, belying the shock and horror that lay beneath it.